Deus Ex Machina
by Kelly Keil
Summary: Scully is adopted by a cat with an ulterior motive.


TITLE: Deus Ex Machina  
  
AUTHOR: Kelly Keil  
  
EMAIL: klkeil@ameritech.net  
  
WEBSITE: http://grapefruithead.com/kellyfic  
  
ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just keep my info attached.  
  
FEEDBACK: Is the frosting on my cake. I'd love to know   
what you think of my story.  
  
SPOILERS: Through S7, especially SUZ and Closure, En Ami,   
Chimera, all things, and Requiem  
  
RATING: R (some offensive language, some sexual content,   
general blasphemy)  
  
CLASSIFICATION: S, H, A, MSR  
  
DISCLAIMER: Scully and Mulder are the property of CC,   
1013, and the all powerful Fox network. The gods,   
however, belong to themselves.  
  
SUMMARY: Scully is adopted by a cat with an ulterior   
motive.  
  
NOTES: Many thanks to Maria Nicole, M. Sebasky,   
Magdeleine, and Cofax for beta and helpful suggestions.   
My heartfelt gratitude goes out to Yes, Virginia for   
always being there, even in the wee hours of the night.   
  
Dedicated to Mr. Peebles, both real and literary.  
______________________  
  
Deus Ex Machina  
  
By Kelly Keil  
  
"Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods.   
Cats have never forgotten this." --Anonymous  
  
  
As gods went, she was pretty old.  
  
Well, goddess, actually, but after racketing around for   
several millennia, she'd learned not to sweat the small   
stuff. Besides, in this age, the word goddess held no   
cachet. It brought to mind middle-aged women who didn't   
shave or wear bras and tended to shop at new age stores.   
Women who, in general, didn't have much use for men. The   
god didn't approve. True, she'd been retired for years,   
but the job never quite let you go.  
  
She'd kept a paw in, dabbling in her old vocation from   
time to time over the years. She'd done it mostly out of   
boredom. It was lonely being a god with no followers, and   
immortality tended to drag on and on. Technically she   
wasn't supposed to mess with people who didn't worship her,   
but if a god can't bend the rules, who can? Just to be on   
the safe side, she tended to work on those who were atheists,   
or confused in their faith. Above all, she only meddled   
with those who needed her most. That way, if the shit ever   
did hit the fan, she could always explain to whatever god   
she'd offended that she'd only been trying to help.   
  
Her newest victim...er...prospective client fell into the   
confused category. The poor woman didn't know what to   
believe. Technically she did fall under the purview of   
another god, but the woman's faith was very shaky right   
now. Close enough. Per the requirements, the woman was   
barren. She sensed a man in this woman's life, which was   
also necessary. The god was good, but she wasn't up to   
immaculate conceptions. The woman's relationship with   
the man, however, seemed as uncertain and tangled as a   
ball of yarn in the paws of frisky kitten. A challenge.  
  
The god smiled, licking her chops. She liked challenges.  
  
Still grinning, she made her way towards the woman, who   
was walking from her car to the door of her apartment   
building. It was time to introduce herself.  
  
Once upon a time, Bastet had been her name. Now and   
forever, fertility was her game.  
  
* * *  
  
Scully felt something rub up against her ankle and   
nearly lost it.   
  
She'd been on edge too much lately. For the past seven   
years, if one was keeping track-- a very long time not   
relax your guard. Nerves jangling, she looked down at   
her feet.  
  
Something was rubbing up against her. Something dark.   
Something furry. A cat.  
  
Scully's anxiety switched to annoyance. She wasn't very   
fond of cats. They were secretive, sulky, self-absorbed,   
and self-satisfied. They came and went on their own   
schedule. Come to think of it, that described Mulder   
lately. Well, she didn't need him and she didn't need   
a cat, either.  
  
"Shoo," she said to it loudly, prodding it with her foot.   
"Get away. Find some cat lover to take you in."  
  
The cat didn't budge.  
  
Scully made a feint toward the cat and said, "Boo!"   
feeling ridiculous the whole time.   
  
Instead of scampering away, like a wild cat should have,   
it sat back on its haunches and regarded her while   
licking its paw.  
  
Scully sighed. She didn't have time or patience for this.   
"Look," she said, not quite believing she was speaking to   
a cat, "I'm going in now. I'm not going to feed you. I'm   
not going to pet you. I'm not going to let you sleep on   
my bed. Go away."  
  
The cat just looked at her.  
  
Giving up, Scully turned her back on the cat and went   
inside. She closed the door firmly in the cat's face   
and made her way to the elevator. That's that, she   
thought, stretching her neck muscles and feeling the   
joints pop. All she wanted tonight was a hot shower and   
bed.  
  
And God help Mulder if he called to interrupt her sleep.   
Although, come to think of it, he hadn't done that in a   
very long time.   
  
With that depressing thought, she let herself into her   
apartment and locked the door behind her.  
  
* * *  
  
This was not the first time a door had been shut in   
Bastet's face. She took it in stride, like the cat she   
was, and walked through the wall, like the god she was.  
  
* * *  
  
Scully awoke with a loud thrumming in her ears.   
Something warm, fuzzy, and heavy was lying on her head,   
purring like a buzz saw.  
  
"You'd better not be a cat," she warned.   
  
The thing that shouldn't have been a cat but nevertheless   
was one stretched, its claws digging into Scully's   
shoulder.  
  
"Ouch!" she cried out and sat up, dislodging her visitor.   
She raked her hair out of her eyes then drew her knees up   
to her chest. As she contemplated her furry intruder, it   
groomed itself busily. "I don't know how you found your   
way in here, but you'll have to go," she said. "You're   
going to have to find someone else to bother."  
  
The cat chirruped at her and seemed to smile.  
  
"No, it's no use. I don't like cats." Scully scooped the   
cat up in her arms and marched out of her bedroom and down   
the hall to her front door. She almost forgot her keys but   
managed to remember to grab them just before closing her   
door. As she walked down the hallway toward the elevator,   
juggling both keys and cat, she passed by neighbors peeking   
outside doorways, looking for their morning papers. She   
ignored their stares and walked with her head held high.   
  
If anyone could retain her dignity carrying a struggling   
black cat while wearing pink flannel pajamas, it was Dana   
Scully.  
  
* * *  
  
The god was nothing if not patient. Immortality tended   
to do that to a body. The woman was not making things   
easy, but the god was not put out. The easy ones were   
never any fun. Persistence was the key. Persistence   
and patience. The god had seen mountain ranges wear   
themselves down into foothills. She could outwait the   
stubbornness of any mere human.  
  
Besides, it wasn't like there was anything else to do.  
  
* * *  
  
Scully was not in a good mood as she drove home from work.   
Every night for two weeks she had come home to find that   
damned black cat installed in her apartment. She was at   
her wit's end.  
  
She had had her landlord inspect her windows and door.   
He had pronounced them all intact and impervious to   
trespassers, human and feline alike. Scully didn't   
believe him. Intruders didn't seem to have any trouble   
breaking into her apartment, and the cat kept on turning   
up there like a bad penny.   
  
She'd had a building inspector go over her windows and   
door with a fine-toothed comb and he'd also proclaimed   
her apartment sound. He'd said this while scratching   
the cat on the ears. "Cute little thing," he'd said.   
"What's her name?"  
  
"I have no idea," Scully had said in chilly tones.   
  
The building inspector had given her an odd look then   
hurried on his way.  
  
Her mother had been no help either. "Oh, isn't she   
adorable," her mother had proclaimed when she'd first   
seen the demon cat. "You really should keep her," she'd   
added, chucking the cat under the chin. The cat had   
purred loudly in appreciation. "I think you could do   
with a pet. And she's such a sweet thing." The cat   
had rolled over, showing her tummy. Scully's mother   
had obligingly petted her.  
  
The whole thing was disgusting.  
  
Then there was Mulder. She had thought at first he   
would've found it amusing--a black cat refusing to   
leave her alone. Instead, he had barely listened to   
her story, intent instead on their new case. "This   
one is special," he'd said. "I can feel it." His   
voice was fervent, his eyes bright and glassy. She   
was worried about him, but if the truth be told, she   
was getting tired of being worried about him.   
  
Right now she wanted to receive moral support on the   
whole cat issue from Mulder, and with his current   
preoccupation with their missing child case, it wasn't   
likely she would get it. The only thing she was willing   
to lay money on was that she'd have to forcibly eject a   
cat from her apartment until the world ended.   
  
Maybe it was time for her to move. Surely the cat   
wouldn't follow her. Surely not. But Scully had a   
sneaking suspicion that it would find a way to hound   
her for the rest of her life. She could kill it, but   
the thought made her stomach knot up. It's just a cat,   
she thought, but stomach remained clenched. Why won't   
it just go away? she thought. I just want to be left   
alone. Why won't it just go away?  
  
* * *  
  
Bastet's patience was starting to wear thin. It   
had been centuries since she'd dealt with such a   
stubborn human. Tonight, as the woman threw her out   
the door of the apartment building, she resisted the   
urge to give her a good scratch.   
  
By now she should be sleeping on a soft cushion at   
night. The woman should be feeding her tasty things   
like tuna and cream. She should already be hard at   
work at the real task at hand.  
  
Bastet couldn't believe the woman's continual refusal   
to be kept. She'd rarely encountered a human with such   
determination to be left alone. The god found it   
intriguing, but ultimately an annoyance. Nevertheless   
she wasn't giving up. The god would not contemplate   
cutting her losses and moving on. Her pride, both as a   
god and a cat, wouldn't allow it.  
  
She settled down and waited until her human was asleep   
then whisked herself into the woman's bed. Bar the door   
and windows all you like, she thought, you'll never be   
able to keep me out.  
  
* * *   
  
Scully came home and found the cat was waiting for her.   
It had a resigned look on its face. Until that moment,   
Scully hadn't known an animal could look resigned.  
  
"You're getting to be about the only thing I can count on,   
Cat," she said. She put down her briefcase and purse.   
"Death, taxes, and you. What a combination."   
  
Scully went over to the cat to pick it up for their   
nightly sojourn to the front door, but hesitated. She   
was wearing a white suit today. She'd never get all   
the black cat hairs off of it no matter how many times   
she had it dry cleaned. She went instead to her bedroom   
to change, the cat following closely on her heels,   
probably curious about the change in routine. Once   
undressed, she didn't feel like anything but a shower.   
Deciding the cat could wait a few more minutes, Scully   
stood under the spray and tried to wash off the day's   
events.  
  
Today had been a very bad day in a long string of them.   
Mulder was preoccupied with their current case to an   
extent that she didn't find healthy. Then his psyche   
had received a heavy blow after she had told him his   
mother was dead. He was teetering perilously close to   
a mental breakdown. The only reason she had consented   
to performing his mother's autopsy was to placate him.   
She felt she should go to him and try to give him comfort,   
but right now she was too tired and emotionally drained   
to remove the cat, let alone deal Mulder.  
  
After drying off, she sat on her bed in her robe and   
tried to work up the motivation to get dressed. I have   
things to do, she kept thinking. I have plans to keep.   
But her legs refused to move.  
  
The cat entered her bedroom and twined around her ankles.   
She could hear its rumbling purr in the silence of her   
room. Her arms moved of their own volition and picked   
up the cat. I should put her out, she thought, and   
rested her cheek against the soft fur. Now she could   
feel the purr as well as hear it. The sound soothed her   
in an unexpected way, mending her frayed edges.  
  
"He asked me to cut up his mother," she whispered to the   
cat. "And I did it. I sliced her flesh and do you know   
what I found? Nothing but a body riddled with cancer and   
a stomach full of sleeping pills. He made me do this   
thing, and for what purpose? He believes what he wants   
to believe. Nothing I say matters."  
  
The cat's fur became wet as she cried for Mulder, and   
Teena, and also herself. All throughout, the cat   
remained motionless and purring. As time wore on and   
her tears wore out, Scully found to her surprise that   
she felt better.  
  
The phone rang, disrupting the tranquil spell that had   
fallen over the room. Scully rose to answer it and   
discovered that her legs worked after all.   
  
"No, Mulder," she said into the receiver, "I'd rather   
tell you in person....Yes, I'll be right over."  
  
She dressed with no hesitation, rehearsing in her head   
how she would break the news to him. The cat lay on   
the bed, forgotten for the moment. It was only much   
later, as she sped toward Mulder's apartment, that she   
realized she hadn't ejected the cat from her home. No   
matter, she thought. She seems to be able to come and   
go as she pleases. I can throw her out when I get back.   
She's always there when I get home.   
  
Late that night, after Mulder had talked and cried   
himself into exhaustion, she sat beside his slumbering   
body and felt his heartbeat. It reminded her of the   
cat's purring. Listening to the rhythmic pulse, she   
fell asleep.  
  
Somewhere in her unconscious mind was the thought that   
maybe she could surrender to the inevitable and let the   
cat stay. The idea wormed its way through her brain,   
insinuating itself into areas of conscious thought. By   
the next morning she made up her mind. For better or   
worse, the cat could stay.  
  
* * *  
  
The god lay on the woman's bed exhausted but extremely   
pleased. It had taken an awful amount of energy, but   
she had finally gotten through to her human. Before   
long, she would be able to concentrate her efforts on   
the second phase of the project.   
  
She fell into a deep sleep that did not break when the   
woman returned many hours later. The god remained   
curled in a tight ball all the while the woman pulled   
out clothes and packed them into a bag.   
  
While Bastet slumbered on, the woman called her mother.   
"Could you come by and check on the cat while I'm gone?  
...Maybe. We'll see....Can you get her some food? And   
whatever else she'll need? I won't have a chance before   
I leave....Love you too, Mom. I'll see you when I get   
back."  
  
Despite being fast asleep, the god heard this and a smug   
smile formed on her feline lips.  
  
* * *  
  
Like a cat stalking its prey, the god had seen potential   
in the woman from the first and went after it single-  
mindedly. Concentrating on one thing to the exclusion   
of all else was one of her strengths. What Bastet   
lacked, however, was far-sightedness. For cats, there   
is only now, not next week, or even tomorrow. The god   
was not as limited in her scope as a cat, but she had   
spent too many lifetimes in a feline shape not to pick   
up a feline point of view. She was therefore horrified   
when she got her first glimpse into the woman's soul.  
  
Bastet was not a powerful god, and her omnipotence was   
limited. She had had no way of clearly reading the   
woman's thoughts and feelings until she had been welcomed   
by her fully. Now that the woman had opened up a tiny   
bit of her heart to the cat that had invaded her home,   
the god was able to see what she had gotten herself in   
for. It wasn't a comforting vision.   
  
The god had anticipated that this woman would be a   
challenge; she hadn't expected her task to be impossible.   
The woman's barrenness was a piece of cake to deal with   
compared to this. How can you get a woman pregnant when   
she's celibate? Celibate by choice, at that, and not by   
circumstances. The god was incredulous. This was a   
problem she had never encountered before. Even that   
Spanish nun she'd dealt with centuries earlier was   
easier work with than this woman.   
  
Bastet shook herself. No. She would not admit defeat   
at this late date. What she needed was a goal. An   
obtainable goal. She would take this one step at a time.   
She would push things along. Then let nature take its   
course.  
  
And if that didn't work, she'd just have to push nature   
along. She was a god, after all. She wasn't about to   
have her track record marred by one overly fastidious   
old maid. It was not to be borne.  
  
In the meantime, she needed to rest and regain her   
energy. She sensed exhausting times ahead. Just to   
show that she meant business, she got up, ate the tuna   
the woman had left out for her then went to take a very   
long nap.  
  
* * *   
  
Scully came home in a rotten mood. She threw down her   
briefcase and bag then proceeded to strip out of her   
clothes. With a grimace of distaste, she threw the   
garments in a brown paper bag. "It's the incinerator   
for you," she declared.  
  
Cat chirruped inquiringly.  
  
"The clothes, not you," she told the cat.   
  
Cat groomed herself with industry, unwilling to show   
that she'd been concerned. Scully chuckled and rubbed   
her ears.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower until the water runs cold,   
then I'll fix both of us some dinner. Sound good?"  
  
The cat wurfed in agreement.  
  
"It's a date, then."  
  
Later, after she had scrubbed herself pink and then fed   
both herself and Cat, Scully began to vent about her day.   
Scully would never had admitted it to another soul, but   
unburdening herself to the cat made her feel worlds better   
afterward. Besides, it was cheaper than therapy.  
  
"I can't believe he left me alone in that scummy room   
doing surveillance duty of all things. My nose still   
hasn't recovered from the reek of that place.   
Unconsciously or not, Cat, I think he's trying to   
punish me," said Scully, her hand stroking the cat's   
velvety fur. "It's because I went off with Spender   
without telling him. God forbid I ditch him for a   
change."  
  
The cat huffed and Scully took that for assent.  
  
"He's driving me crazy, Cat. One day he follows me   
around practically drooling, the next he treats me   
like I have the plague. I'm tired of this limbo-like   
state we exist in--not lovers, but more than friends."  
  
Cat asked, "Merow?" as if to say, "Really?"  
  
Scully sighed, weariness filling her. She saw no   
change in her future as it stretched ahead of her.   
Long years of work awaited her with no family waiting   
for her when she got home. She leaned her head back on   
the sofa and closed her eyes. Her life was very full,   
she told herself. She did good, necessary work. She   
made a difference. Her eyes burned with the effort of   
holding back unshed tears. She would not cry over this.   
It was ridiculous and weak to feel sorry for herself.  
  
The cat stretched up and butted her head against Scully's   
chin, chirruping softly.  
  
"Oh well, Cat, at least I have you."  
  
* * *  
  
The god was, for the first time in her existence,  
completely at a loss. Her project was going nowhere  
fast even though she had been working on it for months.  
Nothing she did seemed to work. At best there was no  
effect, and at worst her efforts backfired in nasty ways.  
Right now the woman and her Mulder were barely on  
speaking terms, mostly due to a few minor miscalculations  
on the god's part. Okay, so distance didn't make the  
heart always grow fonder. Sometimes, it just pissed  
off the heart in question.  
  
She was also getting worried. Never before had the god  
spent so much time with a human. Bastet found that she  
sort of...well...liked it. Not that she'd admit that to  
another god. Liking humans too much was dangerous.  
Taking a personal interest was one thing. Rolling over  
to have your belly scratched was a perk of the job. But  
comforting your human because she was feeling blue was  
another story. She was a god, not a pet. She owned the  
human, not the other way around.  
  
She did not feel affection for the woman. She was not  
stalling in order to stay with the woman a little longer.  
She wouldn't miss the tuna, or the liver, or the cream.  
Not at all. Nor would she miss being petted or scratched  
behind the ears. No, sir. She was a fancy free god. It  
was only the unfinished business that kept her here.  
  
The god repeated this until she believed it.  
  
Or until she nearly believed it. Bastet knew she was  
fooling herself. She was in very real danger of ceasing  
to be a god. It was the fate for many gods over the  
years. Immortality was lonely. Choosing to be mortal  
was very tempting. The god knew she was a whisker from  
becoming a real cat.  
  
She needed to finish this business and move on, the  
farther away the better. She thought warm sun on her  
back and sand in her paws might do the trick. In  
addition, she would swear off people entirely for a  
century or two. She needed some distance from them.  
If she could, she'd cut her losses and leave tonight.  
Unfinished miracles, however, are death to gods every  
bit as much as too much longing to be mortal. One  
more unfinished miracle and she'd be washed up for  
good. She was caught in a trap of her own making.  
  
The god batted at a milk jug ring while she thought  
about her dilemma. Maybe it was time to bring in some  
outside help. She had a few favors she could call in  
and failing that, deals could be struck. Something had  
to be done before it was too late.  
  
Pride goeth before a fall. Bastet understood that all  
too well now.  
  
* * *  
  
"This will cost you," the goddess said. "My services  
are expensive."  
  
Bastet nodded. "I know, Didi, but I don't know who  
else to turn to. The situation is beyond my ability."  
Or control, she added silently.  
  
The goddess trilled out a sparkling laugh. "You are  
but a little thing. I do not understand why you're  
even bothering. She isn't worth it. Find someone else  
to occupy your time. Or do you love her?" The goddess  
bent down to study Bastet. "Have you forgotten what you  
are?" She laughed again, this time derisively. "How  
droll. I haven't seen this sort of thing in years."  
  
Of course the goddess was right. She always was about  
love. Matters of the heart were her specialty when you  
got right down to it. Nevertheless the god resented Didi  
rubbing it in.  
  
"I don't have to take this," said Bastet, bristling. "I  
am a god, same as you. I have rights."  
  
The goddess peered at her with disinterested eyes. "Do  
you need my help or not?"  
  
The god shoved down her pride. "Yes, I do. What's the  
price?"  
  
"We'll discuss payment when I've completed my side of  
the bargain. Is it a deal?"  
  
Bastet put her paw into the slim hand of the lovely  
goddess. "It's a deal."  
  
* * *  
  
Scully felt like a toy on the end of string being  
pulled this way and that at the whims of power greater  
than she. Coincidences were stacking up at a suspicious  
rate.  
  
First had been the mix-up with the x-rays. What were  
the odds of that, anyway? Scully thought it was about  
as likely as Mulder finding computer generated crop  
circles appearing in England. Until she had seen  
Daniel today, Scully hadn't realized the ties he still  
held her by. He had been her first real love. They  
say you never forget your first love, but she had  
managed to do so until now. She'd forgotten his  
intelligence and naivet, his passion and possessiveness,  
his generous nature and sullen tempers. All this time  
she had stored away their relationship in her mind as  
one of her greatest failures, but now she was beginning  
to see how right she was to have moved on with her life.  
She couldn't believe he had lived all this time in D.C.  
waiting for her. It was ironic that he had been here  
all along and she had never run into him until today.  
  
Then there was the girl she'd been seeing all day.  
First, she had handed her Daniel's x-rays, then Scully  
had almost hit her with her car while talking to Mulder.  
The near miss had been due to her inattention, but the  
whole scene had felt orchestrated somehow. Later, she  
had seen her again before finding that magical temple.  
Just who was she? She was important somehow, Scully  
felt sure, but how she knew this she could not say.  
  
This was all more Mulder's territory than her own. I  
wish he were back here, she thought. He'd have an  
explanation for all of this. It might be farfetched,  
but it would be an explanation. I miss him. When did  
I start to miss him this much?  
  
* * *  
  
The goddess went to the sleeping man and stroked his  
hair. "He's lovely, isn't he?" she asked the god.  
  
Bastet shrugged, or would have if cats could shrug.  
"He's not hard on the eyes."  
  
"Your human is made of sturdy stuff to be able to resist  
this one. What an attractive pair of ninnies they make."  
She laughed her silvery laugh and the man moaned in his  
sleep.  
  
"Don't wake him," warned Bastet.  
  
"Shush." The goddess leaned close to the man's ear.  
"Go home," she whispered. "She's waiting for you. Go  
home."  
  
The man moaned again and rolled over.  
  
"There, that ought to do it," the goddess said, standing  
up and brushing her hands together briskly. "Come on,  
time's wasting."  
  
She and Bastet faded from the room just as the man began  
to stir and wake.  
  
* * *  
  
Bastet and the goddess watched over the sleeping woman.  
  
"This had better work," said the god in an anxious tone.  
  
"Relax," said Didi. I know what I'm doing." She  
snapped her fingers and the phone began to ring. "Now  
all we have to do is sit back and watch the fireworks."  
  
The gods faded away as the woman woke.  
  
* * *  
  
Scully saw the girl again and this time she was  
determined to catch her. She ran forward and grabbed  
her arm, not even sure what she was going to say, when  
she saw that it was Mulder.  
  
She was momentarily confused then her heart began to  
thump in her chest. It was as if she were seeing him  
for the first time, or perhaps just seeing him with  
new eyes. I love him, she thought. My God, I'm in  
love with him. I have been all this time. How have  
I not seen it?  
  
Taking Mulder's arm, she went back with him to his  
apartment and told him everything that had happened  
to her over mugs of tea and wedges of the English  
shortbread he'd brought home with him. With every  
word she felt freer and lighter and she wondered why  
she'd been so reticent in the past. Instead of  
talking to my cat, she thought, I should have been  
talking to him.  
  
"Scully," she heard him whisper, "are you asleep?"  
  
She'd closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened  
them, she found Mulder's face inches from her own.  
"No," she whispered back. "Not yet."  
  
His lips were a breath from hers, yet a chasm away.  
What if every event of her life had led up to this  
moment? Who was she to throw away what fate was  
tossing up before her?  
  
She leaned forward and touched his lips with her own.  
Around her, time slowed. All that existed was this  
room with Mulder and her in it. The quiet sounds  
around them were amplified: the pounding of her  
pulse, the bubbles surfacing in the aquarium.  
  
Everything seemed to happen in such a deliberate way  
that Scully felt as if destiny had fallen down on their  
heads. Fingers found fever hot skin, unbuttoning and  
unzipping, until each of them was naked before the other.  
She felt Mulder's mouth on her nipples and cried out.  
The sound reverberated in the room, building to a  
crescendo as he touched and kissed her. Mulder's voice  
joined hers as she straddled his thighs and pulled him  
inside her. They moved together, desperate to make up  
for lost time, to relieve the agony of waiting, to  
assure each other that all this was real.  
  
"Oh, my God," moaned Scully as felt Mulder come within  
her. It was too much and she had to bite down on  
Mulder's neck in order to keep from flying apart into  
pieces. How long had it been since she'd felt the heat  
of a man's body? She couldn't think. She felt her own  
climax and shattered anyway, falling into shards all  
around him. He gathered her close and for that moment  
at least, they were one.  
  
* * *  
  
The god lay in the warm sun and tried not to think of  
the woman. Everything was fine now, she told herself,  
trying hard to be convincing. Scully had her man and a  
baby on the way. It was what the woman had dreamed of,  
in her most secret hours, when only the god was privy  
to her thoughts.  
  
She's happy, Bastet decided. Just let it go.  
  
When the miracle had been successfully performed, the  
god had felt her self-imposed bond to the woman break.  
She had left that night, escaping from the apartment as  
easily as she had broken in. At first she had only  
thought to run for as long as she could in any direction  
away from the woman. With her power drained from the  
completed miracle, Bastet had had to hole up in an  
alley to recharge her energy. When she had at last  
been able to, she had shed the cat body and taken on  
human form. Traveling long distances as a cat was  
nearly impossible, and Bastet was still afraid of  
being trapped as a feline forever. It was bad enough  
that the human face she'd created had pointed features  
and vivid green eyes.  
  
The god had eventually made her way to her first home.  
It was good to see the sea again. The Mediterranean  
had never looked so blue. She spent long hours basking  
in the sun and looking at the water, playing tourist.  
She was frazzled by her recent experience but she had  
a very long time to chill out.  
  
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I have a message for you."  
  
The god looked up and saw a young boy standing beside  
her. He was also dressed as a tourist, in shorts,  
sneakers, and a baseball hat. She noticed that hat  
and sneakers were embroidered with golden wings.  
  
"Let me guess," she said. "My bill from Didi."  
  
The messenger shrugged. "I don't read 'em, just deliver  
'em. Do you want me to wait for a reply?"  
  
"Give me a second to read it," she said. Let the price  
be something I can afford, she hoped.  
  
The letter read as follows:  
  
Bastie darling,  
I have already taken my prize for helping you. He  
is very delicious. Thank you ever so much.  
Hugs and kisses,  
Didi  
  
"Oh, fuck," said the god.  
  
"Is that the message you want me to take back?" asked  
the messenger with disapproval.  
  
"No, wait. I have to do something. I had no idea that  
bitch, excuse me, that she would even consider doing  
such a thing. Can you wait for me to write a few  
letters?" Bastet wrung her hands together. This was  
all her fault. She should have foreseen it and never  
asked that oversexed hussy to help her. Dammit.  
  
The god wanted very much to smite something, but smite  
wasn't in her arsenal. Instead she did the practical  
thing and wrote her letters. The only way to sort out  
a dispute like this was through arbitration.  
  
* * *  
  
The first chairgod stepped to the podium. "Folks, I  
know it's been a long day, but the other gods and I  
have nearly come to a decision. Please bear with us  
a few minutes longer.  
  
Didi looked over at her and stuck out her tongue.  
Bastet didn't deign to respond.  
  
Behind them, various gods, demi-gods, and immortals  
murmured and whispered to each other. This was the  
most exciting thing to occur in decades.  
  
The first chairgod banged his gavel on the podium.  
"Don't make me come out there and damn you," he said.  
"Now, these are they key elements as we see them.  
Aphrodite performed a service for Bastet. An undisclosed  
payment for said favor was agreed upon by the two parties.  
Are you with me so far?"  
  
Both gods nodded at him.  
  
"Great. Now is where we get to the difficulties." The  
god began to chew on the end of his long beard in an  
absent-minded way. "Didi here claimed that she took her  
desired payment as agreed to in the bargain. Bast, on  
the other hand, said that Didi took something as payment  
that should have been out of bounds. Didi retorted that  
as there were no specifications to the payment, she can  
have what she wants. Bast returned that the thing in  
question did not belong to her, and thus cannot serve  
as payment. Yada, yada, yada."  
  
"Get on with it, Jo," said a chairgoddess behind him.  
"We may have all millennia to deal with this, but as  
the payment in question is human, it also comes with  
an expiration date. I'd like to resolve this before  
the question becomes moot."  
  
"Point taken, Gaia," he replied. "I think we should  
bring it to a vote. Okay, let's go. Starting with  
you at the end, Al."  
  
Each chairgod in turn rose and gave his or her vote.  
  
"There we go," said the first chairgod. "All settled.  
The council has decided five to two in favor of  
returning the payment. I think we're pretty much in  
agreement," he gave very hard looks to the two gods who  
had voted against the majority, "that what you took was  
not a proper forfeit. That is all, thank you. Now we  
can all go home."  
  
He and the other gods started to leave but Didi's  
voice cut them off. "Wait. I'm still owed something,  
aren't I?"  
  
Bastet looked anxious. Didi was in a steaming snit  
now and who knew what evil thing she'd ask for.  
  
The first chairgod sat back down and the other chairs  
followed. "Very well. We might as well settle this  
here and now. I don't want a repeat performance of  
today, thank you very much."  
  
"I want her to give up immortality," Didi proclaimed.  
  
Gasps went up from the crowd behind them. Gods began  
shouting in protest. This sort of request was unheard  
of.  
  
"For one lifetime," Didi finished. "I want you to live  
a lifetime without powers or knowing what you are. To go  
through life being ordinary. It will be entertaining to  
watch, I think. It doesn't make up for what I am losing,  
but it will do. You will provide me with years of laughter.  
I find that to be fair compensation."  
  
Bastet let out the breath she'd been holding. The price  
was high, but it was fair. There was no complaint she  
could reasonably make, but she did have one objection.  
"You don't have the power to force that on me, Didi," she  
remarked.  
  
"But we do," said the first chairgod. "As spokesgod for  
the council, I will accede to your request of payment,  
Didi, as being fair and aboveboard. A little cruel, to  
be sure, but we aren't here to judge that sort of thing,  
are we? We will make the necessary arrangements. Didi,  
you may go. Court is dismissed. Bast, come with us, if  
you please. And remember dear," he added as she drew  
near, "it isn't forever. Being human is pretty awful,  
but you do get used to it. Take it from me." He winked  
at her and gave her hand a sqeeze. "And don't look so  
worried. I won't put you anywhere too terrible."  
  
* * *  
  
"Scully, it's a girl." Mulder beamed with happiness and  
accomplishment as if he had done this all on his own.  
  
"Of course it's a girl," panted Scully. "We knew that  
months ago."  
  
"It's nice to know for sure, though," he replied,  
grinning ear to ear.  
  
"True," said Scully, gazing at her baby for the first  
time, "since we didn't pick out any boy's names and  
he'd look pretty silly going through life named Rose."  
  
"Isn't she beautiful?" he asked anyone who'd listen.  
The doctors and nurses had long since stopped paying  
attention to him.  
  
"Those eyes, though," said Scully, studying her daughter.  
"I've never known a baby to have green eyes from birth.  
She's got your hair, too." She stroked the soft strands  
and was reminded of the fur of a kitten. "We're very  
lucky, Mulder," she said.  
  
"Luck had nothing to do with it," said Mulder.  
  
And that was the truth.  
  
  
  
The End  
_____________________  
  
Please write me and tell me what you thought. Or, barring  
that, share a cat anecdote. I can be reached at  
klkeil@ameritech.net.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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